He always said that.
After the numbers.
It wasn’t until I was sixteen when my dad showed me the tattoo, three numbers 632, on his ring finger, hidden by his ring.
“They’re hers,” he said quietly, rubbing the spot. “What I used to call her, I tattooed it, so I’d never forget that she was the one who saved me, not the other way around.”
Their story is some scary shit of sex slavery and monsters who lurk in the dark because then it’s easier to bring the innocent victims into the light.
My dad became more of a hero that day when I realized he was forced to become something else in order to save those he loved.
Honestly, he’s the one who gave me the idea to talk to Nikolai after Chase and I had that first meeting.
It was risky.
But I was used to taking a risk.
My stomach clenches as we pull to a stop.
Get your affairs in order.
Quit school.
Shit, it must be bad.
Shaking, I kill the engine and share a look with Izzy. “You ready to go in, or do you need a minute?”
She exhales. “I don’t know what I need.”
“Time.” I shrug. “Vodka. Shit, don’t tell anyone I said that first.”
She laughs and wipes her cheeks. “I already had the wine.”
“I like it when you’re tipsy,” I admit, dying—literally, apparently—to touch her. “You’re cute.”
She scrunches up her nose. “Only because I stumble around and get sleepy.”
“And snore,” I add. “Only with the reds though, it’s a mystery.”
She smiles and finally looks at me. “So, Jenna?”
“She was getting clingy,” I lie with a wink. It’s so easy—sometimes, too easy—to show her that side when I know I have next to no time left to have these conversations.
When I wish to God, I could have a dozen dark conversations in my car with this girl where I confess my love, give her a ring, and tell her I’ll keep my promise and stay by her side forever.
Instead, it truly will be until my heart stops beating.
How sad.
How ironic.
A loud knock sounds on the window behind me. I don’t jump, but I want to strangle whoever thought ruining our moment was a good idea.
I turn around and curse.
Of course, it’s King with his curly brown hair, sultry (according to all the girls) smile, and band of bracelets he’s collected from girls and countries alike around both wrists.
I undo my seatbelt and open the door.
He takes one look at me and frowns. “You look like shit.”
“Always good to see my best friend.” I roll my eyes. “There was a fire. Izzy could have died. I’ve apparently realized both of our dreams and turned into my own Marvel character.”
“So, you’re basically an Avenger now?” King crosses his arms.
“I’ll put in a good word.” I slap his shoulder.
“It’s all I ask, man, all I ask.” He looks behind me. “You good, Iz?”
“Oh, other than jumping out my own window and trusting Leg Day skipper over there…” She points at me. “I’m good.”
I gasp. “When have I ever skipped Leg Day!”
She makes a face, then blushes.
I clear my throat and wink. “Okay, that doesn’t count; it was totally worth it. Fuck, until this moment, I was trying to remember why steam got me hard.”
“I’m so glad I’m here to witness this extremely disturbing conversation.” King sighs. “Everyone’s inside, got your text earlier. The chief’s looking into it, and you know the bosses, all suspecting someone was trying to kill one of us… again.”
I sigh and slam the door. “Good thing we’re unkillable.”
“It’s good to be alive!” King shouts, erupting in laughter and throwing an arm around my shoulder. “Also, don’t look directly at Junior’s black eye; he’s super pissed Serena caught him in the ring.”
“No shit?” I stop walking. “He got caught?”
Izzy shoves past us. “She showed boob again. Of course, he got caught! Idiot…” She stomps into the house.
“Good to see things are still going well with Iz,” King jokes, opening the door for me.
“Yeah,” I croak. “You have no clue.”
“Bro, just fu—” He stops in front of Nixon, her uncle. “Sir, I was just about to say how fucking beautiful your family is, sir.”
Nixon, with his bazillion tattoos, short black hair, and blue eyes, looks ready to actually murder King. Too bad it’s his sister’s son because I think Nixon actually dreams of holding King over a large building and waiting until he pisses himself.
Nixon grunts then crooks his finger at me.
King makes a quick exit, the bastard.
“Yes?” I lean against the counter near the kitchen, waiting for whatever orders he’s about to give me. Technically, my orders come from my own Family, but Izzy is his niece; ergo… I’m all ears. He’s the boss to the Abandonato Family, meaning her dad reports to him.
Meaning, as her ex and now savior, I report to him as well.
It’s a respect thing, and I actually do respect him.